Ashes to ashes,
my lungs full of dust.
Growing from their ruins,
love wasn’t enough.
–
Growing in the flames,
burning all the same.
No point of bandages
that will incinerate off.
Forced to feel.
Must wait to heal.
–
When the fire stops
I will try to find peace in the ashes.
My skin is painted black;
I must cleanse my body of your mistakes:
remove the poison from inside,
–
let go of the hate
which fueled the flames
in order to stop the burning.
–
I rewrite my DNA to rid myself on them,
erase both 50s in a hundred percent.
Then what’s left of me?
0
And if I am nothing, am I really anything?
Anyone?
I am lost,
learning the truth,
and learning how alone really they left us.
